Skin
by lilylynn
Summary: Her skin was on fire.  If she didn't get relief soon, hell was going to break loose. /an. I own nothing. Chapter 4 is M. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

Her skin was on fire.

She could feel the heat radiating off of her and into the already steaming air. Her cheeks were red, she knew. The high, engulfing temperature had her wondering if she'd stepped into an inferno by accident. Her blood was boiling. If she didn't get relief soon, hell was going to break loose on her and everyone else around her.

What amazed her was it wasn't even that warm of a day. December should be cold, shouldn't it? Course, they were in California. _Damn. _Why was this scorching heat consuming just her and not the rest of the team? _Oh that's right, because these victims were all women, brunettes with stab wounds to the abdomen! How ironic._

The sickening scar along her stomach itched underneath the layers of clothing. Not an uncommon sensation but this was the most the scar had bothered her. She sighed deeply, blinking and fidgeting where she stood. The sight in front of her was sadly sardonic and she didn't want to look anymore. How odd to not know whether to laugh or cry. This was too close, too painful.

A pair of eyes was on her and she knew who they belonged to without even looking up. Piercing, burning, steady; doing nothing to calm the storm stoking every fiber in her being. Not able to look at him was horrible enough. More eyes began to watch her and now were everywhere, clouding her mind. Not one eye did she meet. Her team is too good of profilers to not see what was going on and she didn't want to perceive their pity.

A heat stroke was creeping up on her and she had to get out…immediately.

Tearing away from the scene, away from all the watchful gazes, she aimed herself towards the nearest exit she could find. Mumbling an excuse, she briskly left. Her name was called out but she ignored the sound.

_Prentiss!_

They needn't know. They needn't worry. Too much precious time was wasted on their worrying.

She thought she was past this. They had all moved on; everything was as best as it could be, considering. She was ready and able to do her job again and she had been doing just fine till this case came along. Focusing…but not in the way she should have. Hanging on by a thread, gripping so tight to her last bits of sanity and common sense, Emily Prentiss was sinking. All because of this damn case. So much for compartmentalizing; her body screamed at her mind, pushing the damaged thing into overdrive. This led her to believe that a mental breakdown was next on the list.

As daylight graced over her, she felt the sweat along her face and at the back of her neck. A slight breeze was in the air and was just a partial of what she needed. Still cautious despite her position, keeping a hand upon her Glock, she looks around to make sure the area is safe. A few police vehicles were the only other presences around the barn. Catching sight of the SUVs parked near a tree, the shade looking to be a comfort, Emily made her way over.

Ripping her fingers at the Velcro of her Kevlar, she felt desperate. She couldn't breathe, couldn't relax. The heat was suffocating her.

Meeting the back of the SUV, she flung the vest from her body to the ground at her feet. Gun still in place at her hip, Emily began work on the buttons of her shirt. The view of the barn was currently hidden but still she stopped suddenly. She was past the point of caring but something did hold her back for a moment; must be the only morsel of that common sense left. Thinking ahead, she reached out and opened the doors to the back of the SUV, hoping that would give her a bit more privacy. Bending down, she picked the Kevlar back up, sitting the life protector on the tailgate. Stars blurred her vision and she knew she was losing it. Shaky fingers went back to her shirt. Once both sides were free, she yanked the material off her shoulders and away from her heated skin. The grey, wadded shirt joined the vest. This left just a small black tank top that was rapidly becoming too tight.

Her mind, so useful on the job, always resourceful and open, was melting. She counted on her mind, relied on the many different façades produced to get the job done. Was this some sort of relapse; her past coming back to plague everything within her grasp? This psycho, sticking women with unanimous objects of his fancy, couldn't be some sort of sick sign, could it?

Leaning her bottom against the tailgate, slightly out of breath, Emily tries to calm herself. She was letting things get to her but how was she supposed to stop? Getting rid of the high temperature invading the air had to be the first step. She'd give anything to douse her exposed body with ice cold water right about now.

Licking her lips, the only moisture, other than the sweat rolling down her back, she could produce; Emily looked down at her battered body. She was broken. To not be strong was hell; she had always been strong. Relying on strength was what got her by all her life. Strength in her mind and body was her survival. What was she bequeathed with now?

Moving a trembling, sweaty hand, she grasps the end of her last layer of clothing and lifted. Inch by inch the slightly pink from the heat, toned stomach appeared. Then the ever faithful scar took the attention away from everything else. Nine and a half months have passed since she was stabbed in this very poor spot. The mark was ghastly. In an ambulance, she coded because of this mark on her skin, in her skin.

Heart rate never slowing, Emily brings her other hand down, smoothing over the scar. Even though she was aware of her over heated body, she was still surprised when she touched her own skin. She felt burned and at this thought, automatically remembered her other scar. Like a pressure pushing hard against her chest, just as the poker did. A constant reminder that was not necessary. Now her heart ached at the feeling, at the heat. Each beat hurt a little more.

Frustration settled in; she had overcome all of this. This was not PTSD. She took the required tests, spoke about the events, reflected and accepted what happened to her. Now it all was coming back to haunt her.

The downcast eyes filled with tears and she didn't even try to stop them. Raising her head, Emily stared at the tree some distance in front of her. As the tears fall slowly, blending in with the warmth of her cheeks, she stayed silent. No sound could be made. She was stagnant but the blood beneath her skin was singeing with fire, spreading. Her fingers continued to trace the scar as the other hand cradled the bunched up shirt to her chest, covering the hurt there.

Her emotions running wild, the white hot poker dug deeper even now. The image, the occurrence, the vision played over and over; it all was engraved in her mind, memory, heart and skin.

Unexpectedly, Hotch appears in the corner of her sight but she doesn't move. She was too overwhelmed, too exhausted, and too hot to do anything. He was very quiet; she didn't know anyone partook to follow her. She was thankful no one else was with him. Out of all of them, he was the only one who would fully understand. He had to understand.

Seeing her unfazed by his presence was somewhat alarming. But also seeing that she didn't try to hide her stomach told him she trusted him. And that was a big start. Emily wasn't hiding much anymore.

But she didn't want to fight any longer and he needed her to fight.

Rounding the black SUV door and taking a step into her space, Hotch felt the heat. He saw the flushed cheeks, her wide, watery eyes and his heart broke. His eyes didn't wander away from her face. He could read the unabashed fear reflecting in her eyes. Not wanting to invade too much in case she had any form of Claustrophobia, he kept a safe distance but moved in front of her line of sight. She was allowed to escape if she wanted, though, Hotch definitely didn't want that.

She blinked hard when her vision of the tree was changed to Hotch's familiar face. His eyes bore into hers, daring her to look away and the heat never wavers. As another tear makes a lazy path down, Hotch whispers softly.

"Emily…hold on."

Her eyes flutter, wanting to close at the sound of his voice. He then disappears and she snaps them open, fearing he has left her. An opening and closing of a door to her right has her jumping slightly in her spot. But then he is back and a water bottle is in his hand. Wanting desperately to help, he gives her a look as if to ask 'May I?' She meets his gaze and he immediately comprehends.

Taking the step between them, Hotch lays the bottle lightly upon her neck. Her mouth opens and he knows she needs to cool down. And fast.

He moves the bottle away and unscrews the cap. Touching her for the first time in what seems like forever; he places his hand to the back of her head and draws the bottle near her lips, indicating for her to drink. She does, eagerly. Cradling her head, he watches her throat as the cold liquid does its' job. Her head was very warm; his fingers blend through the strands of shiny hair.

Drawing away slightly, he does notice that her hands have yet to move from their position at her stomach and chest.

She didn't need to explain herself to him. He knows.

He holds nothing against her. He completely understands. There was no scolding for leaving the crime scene. He hasn't judged or mocked. He doesn't question her or pressure her into talking.

He was just there. Caring for her.

Conjuring up enough strength to speak, Emily looks at him and whispers in meek voice, "Thank you."

Her skin was still hot but she could feel her face cooling. She realizes in that moment all he has done for her. She knows but his sacrifices really hit her, reloading even more pent up emotions.

Laying the bottle upon her neck again, Hotch nods. "Whatever you need, Emily."

Glancing down, she finally gives way of her shirt and takes the water bottle gratefully from his hand. The other moves away from her head and both fall to hang at his sides. He was still in his Kevlar and the bright, white FBI glares at her.

Turning the bottle, Emily splashes some water on her neck and chest with her hand. She wanted to apologize, wanted to feel uncomfortable doing this in front of him, but she couldn't. Her dire need to cool off before she passed out was too important for her to care about anything else. Reaching behind her, she pours some down her back, loving the cold water running over her skin and seeping into her shirt. The ends of her hair catch some of the water, wetting the soft strands.

Hotch never looks away. He continues to gaze in her face, running his dark pupils along her red cheeks. He knows this case is the worst. Way too close to home for them all. And it's hitting Prentiss hard.

A noise is heard behind Emily but Hotch pays no attention. "I've told them to give you a moment. Don't worry."

Awarding him with another appreciative look, she takes a deep breath. But when she does, an inner struggle appears on her face. Unconsciously, she's grabbing at her shirt again, pushing in.

Without thinking, Hotch places his hand on top of hers applying pressure. She's shocked, he can tell, but she doesn't shove him away. He's surprised himself. All he wants to do is help her though and that thought alone drives him forward. He opens his mouth and says the words she has often said to him.

"You're not alone."

His voice is low and pierces her heart

So he had been listening all those times she tried to make him see.

Sitting the bottle inside the SUV, Emily's other hand, shaking nonetheless, moves and covers Hotch's.

She had to get her courage back. She had to maintain stability. They were what kept her together. His eyes, voice and touch were the mechanisms to help her achieve this. If only she would allow him in close enough.

Taking another breath and biting the bullet, she pulls the shirt back up, hand still wrapped around his. When it's high enough, she stops and waits for him. Never would she let someone in like this. Vulnerability wasn't seized lightly with Emily. Hotch must be her only exception. Either that or she really was losing it.

The smoldering heat consumed her body, leaving her brain numb. But she wanted him to see and feel. She was accepting his help and if he walked away now, that last thread would snap.

Hotch, no longer the stoic, passive man he usually is, felt he was given the key to unlock her suffering. Never breaking eye contact with her, he slowly lowers himself to a crouch. Lifting his free hand, he lays his skin against the skin along her stomach. Instantly the heat pours into him. Their eyes break as Emily is not able to keep hers open.

Hotchs' hand was cool, despite his body warming at the touch. He watches her eyelashes as they lay tightly upon the top of her fiery cheeks. Gently, he caresses over the pink scar, feeling her shiver for the first time. The puckered skin healed well, thanks to the doctors who took care of her. Her healing process alone in Paris didn't quite have the same outcome.

His hand moves up and down with her heavy breathing. She's clutching the other between hers and can't suppress the chills that form. His touch was foreign to her, though the strange sensations overtook everything. As he continues his ministrations, Emily feels a difference. Her body was cooling down. The demons hoarding her head were clearing.

He remained silent; she, too out of it to speak at all, stayed quiet. Even her mind rested.

A breeze came by, blowing their hair, a most welcomed comfort to both. The colorful leaves rustled about on the tree.

The others were somewhat forgotten, placed in the background for the time being. They were concerned, sure; the rest of the team knew to give her some space despite their apprehension. Case, crime scene, all of it took a backseat.

No longer looking at the insides of her lids, Emily's eyes fall to the man in front of her. The light blue of his work shirt and the dark blue of his Kevlar gave her thoughts of the ocean. The depths of his eyes, black as night, held her close. And finally she believed the words. Finally, they meant something to her. He was slowly bringing her back down to sanity.

The compassion she felt and he showed was just as overwhelming as the heat. Tears welled but did not descend.

Running his thumb over the maturing wound one last time, Hotch licks his lips and stands. Eyes locked, he removes his hands from her warm body and reaches for his vest, undoing the Velcro.

"Emily, there are important things that I want you to know. Please listen to me." The standard Kevlar is off his shoulders and sitting on top of hers in seconds. His voice is extremely tender. "You are not weak. You are not dead. Bad occurrences have happened to you and you are stronger for it. I know you know this. You have fought so hard." He is unbuttoning his over shirt now, pulling to un-tuck the fabric. "You think you have failed your tests. Maybe believed you were losing it and the short counseling didn't work. You haven't. You've proved time and time again how amazing and withstanding you truly are. Those scars don't dictate anything."

Without further ado, Hotch hauls the undershirt up and bares his own scars for her to see. Emily blinks, marveling at his courage. These actions were most un-Hotch like. The scars were faded with the years, the stab lines in different angles along his lower torso.

If only Strauss were here. They'd be due for some serious explaining, what with clothes off and skin showing.

They looked to be comparing scars.

"We both have them. Our team has them. I've gone through this too, Prentiss. These scars are mere marks now. I don't forget their presence. But with time, I have moved on. And I know you will too. We are battered, bruised, damaged, shaken and torn; however, we recover, because we're human and we fight like hell to stay alive. The bad timing of this case is what stirred this up. But we'll get past this. _You'll_ get past this. You will heal and conquer."

Swallowing back a small sob, throat tight, Emily timidly brings a hand off her chest and lowers her fingers to outline the surface of a blemish on his right side. A switch had been flicked. They weren't boss and subordinate right now, standing in the office. They were Aaron and Emily, finding their way out of the blistering darkness again.

Her touch was also unfamiliar to him. He embraced the contact, nonetheless. The warmth of her fingers gave him pride, knowing that he is helping her through the pain. He continues.

"I took that oath to protect you and have never regretted the decision. Your safety was too important. I do regret that you were alone, in the hospital, in Paris; trying to recover by yourself was not right. I wish someone you knew had been by your side. But now, you are here; with me, with the team, and I'm always going to be open with you. I know you want do things on your own and handle personal situations on your own but you must know you can turn to me whenever. Allow me to help."

Emily felt her heart soar at his words; the feeling of elation was seizing over the drowning heat. A smile forms on her lips as she rubs her palm along his stomach. The muscles clenched, tightening. He smiles too, dimples and all. Pulling away, they both let their shirts fall. Emily no longer felt her blood boil. Her heart was still racing but her skin wasn't suffocated. She could finally breathe easy again. His touch was healing her wounds.

How do you reply to such wonderful declarations? Biting her lip Emily nods her head, looking down for a second, then at him, straight into those dark eyes. "You…you are quite amazing Hotch. I can't say it to a necessary extent…Thank you…for everything…." She stops there, because her voice catches, not allowing her to continue; nevertheless, he knows what she means. Opening up to anyone was hard for her.

Flashing another dimple, Hotch can only nod then asks, "How is your body temperature? Have you cooled down enough?" Feeling very forward, he lays the back of his hand, then his palm against her forehead. Emily smiles and breathes out an airy laugh at the gesture he made. "I'm sure my skin hasn't changed a degree. I can feel a difference though. No more dizzy spells or waves of nausea. I'll be fine." After a moment's pause, she adds, "We can go back now. Really, I'm better. Like you said, I'll get through. This will soon be in the past. Let's just catch the son of a bitch so we can go home." With the Prentiss smirk and attitude back in line, Hotch agrees with her, happy to see that healthy spark back in her eyes.

He makes her take another long swig from the bottle then in an unusual but no doubt gentlemanlike fashion, helps her put on her over shirt. Fingers less shaky, Emily redoes half of the buttons up and goes for her Kevlar but Hotch is there first. He gives her a look that clearly states 'I know you aren't helpless, but please let me do this.' She yields after a moment of staring. Once swiftly securing the vest, they both hear a noise coming from the barn, telling them the rest of the team was on their way out. They had to be getting curious, worrying about the two of them.

Hotch looks like he wants to say more, maybe even hug her. His arms felt heavy. Not knowing how far he could cross or dare to cross, he ends up linking her hand with his. Then he remembers he was just touching her stomach and realizes the line has already been crossed.

The soft skin was clammy and he held on tight. She squeezes back then pulls away and cocks her head towards his shirt, reminding him of how he looked. Quickly buttoning all of the small pieces, he slides his Kevlar over his head and arms. Emily beats him to the Velcro, pulling them snug along the body-fitting armor.

He swallows and she breathes.

Another step closer, they had surpassed one more barrier together.

Words weren't exactly necessary at this point. They both continue to stare at each other, reading what they needn't say.

Emily is the first to move, stepping around; she grabs hold of the SUV door and waits for him to pass. He does, crime scene and case brought back to the forefront. Closing the back door, Hotch and Prentiss make their way back to the barn, where Rossi, Morgan, JJ and Reid were talking with the local police.

Her steps were shaky but Emily kept her head up. Catching sight of the barn, she could only bite her lip and push down any controlling emotions. The ambulance already had the body inside and Emily was thankful they didn't need to do anymore within the barn.

Looking everyone in the face and dealing with their concern with a small smile, she conveyed to them that she was ok. Hotch nodded to them, going right back to boss mode and asked a few questions with the police. They exchange a brief set of words and decide the rest had to be worked out at base.

With everything that could be done for the time being, they all soon pack up and head back to the station. The team was not quite settled with just an ok but they knew not to push her or Hotch. More determined than ever, they turn their focus to catching the bastard behind all this.

Emily's skin was still warm but she knew, as she climbed into the passenger seat, Hotch in the drivers', that despite her damaged mind and her battered body, there was hope. The sliver of light in her will carry her through this. And she will conquer.

* * *

><p>X.x.x.x.x.X<p>

I know there are a few areas of past tense and present tense, but I liked the way certain sentences sounded, so I left them. Terribly sorry if it bothers you! ;) I'm a sucker for happier endings but I hope this wasn't too much. I may add another chapter, concluding the case and such…Hope you enjoyed and please slip in a comment! Thank you!

lilylynn


	2. Chapter 2

Aaron Hotchner knew things were different. As his fingers grip the steering wheel, Reid carrying on in the backseat and Prentiss sitting next to him, staring out the windshield, Hotch could feel a change. Not anything bad, at all. But some sort of switch was flicked up, revealing truths he never thought he'd see. Glancing over in her direction, Hotch observed her. The red cheeks were now just tinged a healthy pink. Her breathing was normal and every few moments she does that usual lick of her lips out of habit. Both hands were at work, picking her fingernails, another typical quirk. Black hair that was pulled back earlier was now down, framing her face. She wasn't hiding though; her head was held high and she seemed determined. These were things about her he mentally checked off in his head. Profiling her.

So things were obviously the same but seen from another view.

Reid never failing to disappoint, pipes up and asks Emily what was wrong today. She doesn't tense, doesn't raise a shoulder but turns her head to the backseat and meets Reid's eye. She calmly says to him that she had just needed some air and that she was fine. Her tone, eyes and smile she gives him has even Hotch believing. Reid is satisfied and agrees, to her relief, that the climate was a bit warm.

Hotch looks back to the road, after giving her another glance, silently reminding himself she was okay.

Emily Prentiss was a strong woman. This wasn't news to him. He has watched her on and off the field and it's only proven more that she can handle what is thrown at her. She's performed remarkably well with what has happened recently.

Respect is something Hotch feels for all his team members. But that word has been brought to a new level due to what occurred today. He thinks no less of Prentiss. If anything, he thinks more of her. Her mentality, physicality, everything she is made of. The courage that was shown for her to get through this was a giant leap; something he is extremely proud of her for.

Never ones to admit this till now, they are quite similar in many aspects. They had the scars to prove that. The similarities went deeper than skin, though. And you can't hide from the facts. Both strong-willed hardheaded, workaholics who struggle sometimes but overcome. They stand up for what they believe in and somehow both find a balance to bring them back from hell again after the cases they solve.

A burn, running deep within his veins, jolted his thought process to images of Emily again. He can still feel the warmth of her stomach; the pale skin so soft underneath his fingers. Could this heat be a sudden contagion and now he caught it? This burn was thick and pitiless. It spread like a fire, coursing through his blood and building in his stomach. As he turned the corner, the police station in view, he tightened his hand on the wheel. Knuckles white, he wondered what the hell was going on.

Emily hasn't met his eye directly since behind the SUV. He doesn't know whether to be thankful or worried. She licks her bottom lip again. He can see this out of the peripheral of his eye. Was she thinking about him and what drove him to throw caution to the wind and show his own battle scars?

That's a question he has yet to answer himself. He knew there would be consequences to his actions but at that specific moment in time all that mattered was Emily. The dire need to cool her down, to calm and comfort her was all he wanted; revealing to her that she wasn't the only one with an uneven past and the marks to prove it. Now he thinks more about her eyes and the rise and fall of her unsteady breathing. If this was going to be the consequence, he surprisingly couldn't complain. New and unexpected thoughts he never would have guessed were forming in his mind. The past years events had his mind wrapped around her more and more.

He had to focus on the case though. Catching the Unsub behind these gruesome acts was extremely important. Now more than ever, seeing Emily distressed pushed him even further to succeed. His words to her held a promise and gave him a purpose. He could only hope she'd hold on and never loosen her grip on those words.

Doing what they could at the police station, night crept up on them and even though they were another step further, the rest would have to wait until tomorrow.

Reaching the hotel, Morgan suggests the bar and everyone agrees. The need to unwind from the day was vastly felt from all members of the BAU team. They don't do it often but this time they want to make it count; the rule for not drinking while out on a case be damned. After settling in they all drag themselves down to the hotels bar and gather around a table. Rounds of beers were ordered along with a few shots. Emily, tossing two back, felt her mind relax, the whiskey running its' course. The burn in her throat was nothing compared to the burning sensation that inhabited her skin not a few hours ago. As she nursed a beer, eyes unfocused at the small crowd in the bar, the odd feeling floated back over her. She can't place it right off the bat but her hand instinctively tightens around the bottle in front of her. Shrugging it off the best she can, she laughs with Rossi and Morgan as Rossi tells a horrible tale about a time he spent the night in a bar in Chicago.

Cheeks tinged still, she strove forward, pushing past the demons. She missed his touch already. Repeating Hotchs' words over and over in her head, she realizes that said man was staring at her. Yet again, his deep eyes and brooding scowl focus upon her. Not knowing why, this left her heart beating a second faster than normal. Flicking her head in his direction, they finally join gazes. His eyes are dark and sparkling and his mouth twitches just so. Silently, he conveys to her his question. A slight nod, her eyes never leaving his tells him what he wants to know.

Since when had they been so good at communicating like this? She goes an extra mile and smiles at him; a true, blinding smile, trying to give herself more credit and give him further credit. She wants to believe more than ever that she can get through all whom and what plagues her. Little did Emily know her body had other plans. Things weren't quite settled just yet.

He raises the bottle to his lips, sneaking a small lift of his lips before he takes a swig and joins in on the conversation.

This was the calm before the storm.

An hour later everyone was turning in, hoping for a better day after a good night's sleep.

She shows up at his door at 12:54 a.m. Luckily, by some miracle, they had all gotten their own rooms so she didn't disrupt anyone else. It was a cheap hotel and truthfully Hotch wasn't surprised to hear the knock. The nerve it took for her to accomplish that simple action was great. She was never one to be weak, mentally or physically, and he knew letting that barrier fall due to her past was a major strength in itself. She wanted to keep that strength. To not have control was something she was not used to. Always the one to overcompensate, she didn't want to show a weak spot or let slip that something was actually wrong. With the kind of situation they were in, matters took a turn for the worse and they both knew things were bound to be let out in the open. She trusted him. She obviously trusted him; otherwise she would not have been this forward.

He let her in immediately. A size too big sweatpants and small t-shirt was the set attire upon her tall and fit frame. Her fingers dug into the bottom of the shirt and she appeared to be shaking. Her face gave nothing away. She kept the muscles straight and her eyes focused. She was so tough on herself, making sure she withheld everything in place.

They stand almost as close as they were several hours ago. He says her name softly and she bites her lip.

A small thought occurs to him. They hadn't embraced or touched in any way when she came back. How did they miss a simple action as a touch? Acting on impulse, Hotch slips a hand down her arm, feeling the effect along her skin. Unlike before, the smooth skin was cool. Chills broke out, little bumps forming everywhere. In any other situation he would have wanted to smile at that but right now, all he could do was stare. Did the words he spoke to her earlier not connect? Was she suffering still?

The heat that had overwhelmed her earlier was now replaced with the cold. She stood tightly together, every muscle in her body clenched up. She still couldn't relax and he noticed her jaw shake, either from being cold or she was trying not to cry.

Touching her twice in one day was definitely something. Was this a weird twist of fate? That he could not say. But he did know that life works things out in different ways. Things change - feelings, emotions, and situations…everything in life changes. Turn of a light and a situation he never would have predicted is brought forth. It was just them two, standing in the middle of a room. They shared a vulnerability that probably never would be fixed; but that was okay because they were both learning to accept the feeling. They were human.

His focus did not stray from her. The way she licks her bottom lip leaves him wanting something quite altered from before. His blood ran hot, coursing thick, heart beating loudly in his ears. His other hand, hanging at his side, clenched at the sensation.

She takes a breath like that very action was hard on her lungs. Out of nowhere she speaks voice sure and strong. "I know this is all untoward but like you said, the case is what sprung everything to the main line. I tried to lie down and rest but…" Pausing, she blinks a few times. Her eyes were red but so full and deep, melding right into his. "My pain, my scars were driving me. They have been controlling my every move as of late. And you know I cannot stand that. You know I'm usually sure-footed and can deal with what is thrown our way. I don't know how to handle being unaware of my own body. What happened to me…and then seeing these poor women…I don't know…I can't even trust my very mind. I was so good at compartmentalizing and keeping calm and sure. Everything is so screwed up right now. I had passed all my tests. I was fine. I am fine. I just can't wait for this damn case to be over. The luck I have is humorous at times and horrible at others." A sad smirk appears. "I can feel the heat still, through my stomach and above my chest. The fire inside of me still burns. But my skin is ice. I can't sleep and I'm exhausted. The team notices but they can't do anything other than to solve the case. You notice…and…you. You understand. You were in a dark place too and you fought your way out."

For a moment, she seems to run out of things to say. Then a thought slips out before she can stop it. "I'm sorry for intruding…I don't mean to appear an emotional wreck. But I'm…I'm letting you in. Don't think that I didn't listen to you earlier. I reasoned that I had to get all of this out sooner or later. I trust you and…and I guess I just didn't want to be by myself tonight."

Hotch sees the flicker of guilt in her dark, round eyes. Small shadowed circles could be seen underneath them. He swallows, a lump in his throat causing his eyes to water. She felt the need to explain despite him reassuring her earlier. She was used to the boss who would say that he expected her committed to the case and no distractions. Did he really say something like that to her? He felt his stomach clench at the idea. How could he ever say something like that to her now? He would by no means forgive himself. He had to allow her to see. There are so many things he could say. So many encouraging and supportive words but all he wanted to do was to hold onto her and show her the rawest way of understanding and comfort. Talking can only go so far. Another kind of contact needs to be breached.

"You're cold…" The words come out as a husky whisper. She doesn't think she's ever heard him sound that way. Emily nods slightly, arms trembling stiffly against her sides. Her brows were drawn. The soft light in the room reflected in her eyes and in those dark orbs stirred anguish.

The hand he just ran down her arm suddenly tightens over her elbow. Hotch, always one to do what is right and necessary, does the _only_ thing that was right and necessary. This was exactly what he wanted to do behind the SUV, under that old tree.

Pulling her arm softly, he brings Emily into his embrace, wrapping his other arm around her back.

She doesn't immediately react. They had never hugged before. Her body is rigid but as his warm hand squeezes her shoulder blade, she sinks into him without further ado. The only shred of rationality left in her reminded the rest of her body that this was her boss. Whatever sense she did have didn't care. Clinging to his straight, built back, Emily unconsciously releases a small sob. Wanting to hide the sound she seals her lips tight, almost afraid to hear her own pain.

"Let it go, Emily. Please don't hold back. Just let it go." He soothes her, caressing her back in slow strokes. His breath skims along her neck, warm and comforting. "You have nothing to prove to me."

Fingers dig into his work shirt. The same shirt he had bunched up hours earlier, giving her a reason to fight. The buttons were loose now, like he had been just about ready to take it off. She felt her insides shudder as she buries her face into his chest. Throat dry, eyes wet, Emily never felt as safe as she did at that very moment.

This was by far the closest they have gotten.

Only a few tears fall from her eyes, colliding into his shirt, seeping through to his skin. She wasn't crying for herself; they were tears for the women found. The silent tears soaked straight through to his heart. The effect those tears left on Hotch was almost more than he could handle. He felt his blood coarse to every tip of every vein. The lines and curves of her body fit well into his. Hyper sensitive to entirely all his surroundings, he tightens his hold on her, leaving no space for regrets. Her skin was cool, completely opposite of earlier and her weary breathing had him cursing the bastard who caused this case to ever happen.

Hotch runs a hand along the contours of her spine with languid strokes. He could not think of anything to say that would do justice. She no longer needed words. His touch was all that was left.

Emily couldn't cry anymore. She was spent. No one knew of this but she did her crying in Paris, alone in some hotel. That was when she cried for herself. She had cried for her team, the family she left behind.

All those beautiful nights in that city and in different circumstances she could have enjoyed them.

Not wanting to let go but also knowing her place, she leans back and away from him. Eliciting a small laugh, she smiles gratefully at him. "What I would do for a cup of coffee right now."

His hold on her allows the space but doesn't quite release her completely. There was no shame, no hiding emotions. She seemed to be better. His look is curious as he watches her. "What would you do?"

The smile turns coy upon her glowing face and he can't help but show a dimple. This was definitely new territory. But at the same time it wasn't. He knew about her caffeine fix just as much as his own. The slight flirting on the other hand…well, he couldn't stop it.

Giving her an out, he replies. "I believe the mini bar over there has a coffee maker. How about some cheap hotel coffee? Sufficient enough?"

"We'll make it work."

As the words were spoken, Emily meant them in more ways than one. His thumb smoothed over a spot at the back of her arm and suddenly she felt fine. Her body temperature was normal. She would have never of guessed she would feel this comfortable in Hotchs' presence. He truly was helping her out of the dark.

He moves around her, heading to the little coffee machine. Looking around, Emily notices there is no other seating arrangement, just the bed. Breathing deeply, she thinks better of it but decides to sit anyways.

As the aroma of coffee swiftly filled the room Emily fiddled with her shirt, watching Hotch as he moved about.

He was silent, working out things in his head as he grabbed two hotel cups to fill. Turning back around, seeing her sitting there at the edge of the bed gave him a sincere feeling. She wasn't shy anymore, that was for sure. She looked him straight in the eye, no longer hiding from anything. There was that healthy glow about her skin and she appeared reawakened.

As he joined her at the bed, she gratefully accepted the cup. "Oh thank you so much. No matter it's without the secret ingredient or that I've 'quit' it."

A light grin crossed his face and he tentatively sat beside her.

After a few sips, she continues, unafraid of her words or his stare. "Hotch, I do want you to know how much I appreciate you being here for me. The words don't have to be said but I need to say them. I'm thankful for you not pushing and understanding. And for your forgiveness of the mess I've made…Thank you."

She reaches for his free hand and he meets her halfway. Mouth drawn in a thin, tight line, Hotch makes no other movement. The softness of her hand encased in his was like a memory.

Out of nowhere the longing strikes them both where they sat. Or maybe it was there all along. Emily, wanting to forget and move on from her past gazes at him and the overpowering emotion hits her like a ton of bricks. Hotch, wanting to free them all from the horrors above is overcome with the knowledge that he no longer cared about being cautious with feelings. None of that was significant now. Emily mattered.

They didn't act. They just continued to sit there, sipping on the less than mediocre coffee, hands clasped. Letting the desire simmer inside their bodies, the two agents breathed deeply with the steady beat of their hearts.

His chest vibrates with the soft rumble of his voice as he speaks.

"There was nothing to forgive. I'll continue to say this until it sticks; no matter what happened, I'm just glad you are okay…and safely back home with us. That was all I could ask for."

She sensed the gentle warmth of his breath wash over her as the chills ran through her body. These were no longer cold chills that left her feeling odd and uncomfortable. Now her very skin was alive and thriving. All that was missing was contact. Contact with the exact man sitting next to her. His skin upon hers, perhaps the answer to everything, perhaps the downfall - neither could tell.

Neither had the chance to find out as a ringing of a cell phone echoed in the small room.

Hotch sighs deeply, relinquishing the hold on her hand and gets up to answer his phone. The silver clock on the bedside table read 1:39 a.m.

Emily looks to the floor while Hotch trains his eyes on her back throughout the call.

"Got it. Let everyone know. Lobby in ten." Hanging up, he breathes her name.

Holding in the fear that threatened to be brought forth, Emily swallows hard. Without looking up she speaks, her tone level. "They have found another body, haven't they?"

A brief silence flows into the room. Emily already knew the answer. Relying on his voice is what conveyed her to predict what happened.

"Yes. Five blocks from here. Apartment building, ground floor. Security tape has Unsub leaving not ten minutes ago. We've got to go."

She was up, downing the rest of her coffee before he even finished.

"I'll go get my things. See you in the lobby?"

She sounded rushed.

Throwing the cup away, she meets his eyes and before he has a chance to reply or act she wraps her arms around his middle. "Thank you Hotch." He grasps her back, that familiar scent hitting him hard.

As fast as the hug was, her leaving was just as quick. Her spark was definitely back.

Snapping into the same kind of action, Hotch gets everything together, throwing on his Kevlar and grabbing his gun. He knew they would have their time to talk further after this.

Once everyone was informed and all was gathered down by the doors in the lobby, they head to their SUVs, plan in play. No other woman was going to face the same fate tonight. Tonight they will be victorious.

The team noticed the change in Emily. She was newly reformed. Energy of the highest amount was clear as day. She was anxious to catch the Unsub and this alone brought everyone to her level. Focused and unrelenting, she proves not only to herself but to Hotch that she will rise above her past and the things that try to hold her back. She was too determined not to quit now. Her skin may have taken a beating but Emily Prentiss will not give up.

:.:.:.:

a/n. Still own nothing of CM. A bit of a rushed ending, I know…damn it all. Not quite happy with this but I'll push past it.

I don't want everyone to be like 'Well, she's hot then she's cold…she's just going through menopause' or 'Must be that time of the month.' This is meant to be, yes, emotional, but taken seriously. I understand the bit of humor that can be taken from behind it with the hot and cold but no one can know how ones' body is going to react to something. She's not losing her mind. She's just got to work out some things. Hope I made that as clear enough in this. Oh and drinking on the job/case…I know, I know…I just couldn't help it. I laughed about that for a while.

Please drop a review! They are truly amazing! Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Finally finished another chapter! Thanks for the support! Hope you enjoy!

I own nothing of CM.

x.x. .

Seven days had passed since the unsub was caught, injured thanks to Emily, and all legal work was playing out right. The man would never see the light of day again. His broken arm would heal though, unfortunately.

When they had arrived at the apartment building, part of the team stayed, agreeing that Hotch, Prentiss and Morgan continue on the lead, with police backup. They found the car the unsub had stolen according to surveillance in a back alley. He had screwed up at the apartments and he knew it. Something must have thrown him off. He was collecting things hurriedly in an old warehouse when they broke up his party. He chose to run. Naturally, the coward would. Emily being the closest to him tripped him up and slammed him into the ground with a force Hotch and Morgan both admired. Her zest and spark pushed her forward. He had a few tools in his hand but Emily didn't blink. When he falls, the objects fly away, far from him.

She didn't say anything to the filth of a man he was. But deep inside, words wanted to spill. She kept silent, disgust evident.

When the others arrived and the police had taken him away, aware from his screaming that his arm was broken, Emily felt only a small bit of self-satisfaction. His neck would have been so much more sufficient.

The case closed.

Within the last week, many things changed. Many things healed. Many things flourished. The team was closer than they could have hoped for. The demon that used to hang around was gone. Sure, more evil was out there, was in the folders upon folders among JJs' desk, but the team had found their rhythm again. Girls nights were planned, a team meal at Rossi's was set.

Emily was still in that healing process but her hopes had never been so high. She looked past her scars now, the heat no longer bothering her. She could breathe whole, her chest flaring in pain not a worry anymore.

Hotch and Emily were communicating extremely well and having evening talks before leaving work. He was grateful for her healthy appearance. She let him in, something they both wanted and they were easily slipping into a comfortable spot. The trust stood evident between the two now. When she felt like saying something, she would. When he wanted to tell her something, he would. This was their give and take, a system that existed but had never fully been opened until now.

As the days span out, another case was more than likely about to knock on the door, so the team took the opportunity to enjoy a night at their regular bar. Drinks and music went in perfect harmony. Not to mention, Rossi offering to pay. The girls find two tables, scooting them together and they all settle in.

After an hour, Rossi was slinging them back like a pro, eyeing the women on the dance floor. He was making bets with Morgan, who was already on his fifth beer and a few numbers in his pocket.

Garcia and JJ were trying to persuade Reid to do numerous acts he would never even dream about doing. Statistics were flown out into the air as he tried to get them to back off.

Hotch and Prentiss were both on their third drink, smiling and talking about the different songs being played with the memories that go hand in hand.

Some time passed, the music switches to a song with an unfamiliar dance to all of the team but Emily. She jumps up, big smile on her face.

"I'm gonna dance. Anyone want to join?"

Without waiting for a response, she flounces out on the semi crowded floor, her black heels finding a spot in the line of dancers. She immediately catches on to the moves, synchronizing with the rest. Happy yells were called out as the different shoes scrape against the hard wood floor.

The team watches her in pleasant surprise.

With no hesitation, Morgan slides off his chair, grabbing a hold of Garcia's hand, saying, "Come on mama." She squeals in delight as he swings her into a spot.

Rossi laughs heartily, shaking his head and downs another shot of whiskey. He kicks back in his seat, content to watch the display in front of him.

JJ and Reid soon follow the others, Reid a little reluctant.

Next to Rossi sat Hotch, glass in hand, eyes watching every move of one dancer. He is captivated by every step, every turn, and every smile of Emily's. She brought even more life to the already lively room. Her long, dark hair swung in the air, flying and falling back down around her head as she expertly moved with the music. Her straight black work pants she opted to wear fit well. The heels she sported were a last minute decision. She was glad she wore the little shiny pumps but she knew her feet would hate her the next day.

Hotch, dressed in laid back clothing, felt for the first time in a long time, relaxed. He knew his team was. Getting out like this does them all good. Something they all needed to do more often.

Emily catches his eye, smiling and laughing. His pride in her grew. Those fearful, pained eyes he'd seen last week were replaced with joy, happiness. She didn't study each move, making sure everything was in place. She was letting loose, holding nothing back. Her cheeks were pink much like they were before but he knew this colored skin was from the alcohol; from the adrenaline and movement. His heart swelled as her body spun with the tune.

She is beautiful.

That heat that introduced itself inside Hotch before swam through his body making itself at home in the pit of his stomach. Coursing hot, he knew it had nothing to do with the beer in his hand. This was familiar now and he wanted the warmth to continue. He wanted to touch her skin again. The softness still burned in his memory. They haven't touched like they did the night in his hotel room. Just a few brief brushes of hands along each other's backs, were the closest to where they went at the office. Hotch found himself aching to hug her again, to clasp her to his chest and never let go.

He watches her grab at her stomach once but she doesn't show pain. Then he sees her rub the material of her shirt, like she was scratching. Maybe the shirt was itching near her scar. The white top was tight to begin with so it was possible. Her eyes are still laughing and soon her hand moves away, flicking her hair off her face and turns again with the rest of the crowd.

Reid bumps into her and she busts out laughing, the sound carrying around the room over the music. JJ pulls him away, trying desperately not to laugh and shows him again the steps she quickly learned.

Hotch and Rossi enjoy the view, smiling at the team. Their family.

The song came to an end and Emily is the first to make it back to the table. Rossi motions for another drink and soon a cold one is in front of her eager face.

She gives him a breathless thanks and sits back down in her seat next to Hotch.

"Where did you learn that one?" Rossi asks from across the table. "Very entertaining to watch, I must say."

Emily laughs again, eliciting eyes to turn in her direction. She appeared so carefree and enticing that they had to see what was going on. After taking a long swig, she finally answers. "You probably don't want to know. Underground kind of thing, I suppose is the nicest way to explain it. Think Dirty Dancing, but instead of a rich getaway it's really a dirty, seedy nightclub everyone went to." She downs another large gulp, shaking her head as she thought back to the place. "Good times...that's all I can say."

Hotch smirks, silently laughing, eyes unabashedly watching her.

Rossi laughs with her, "Emily, I probably lived in a bar you just described for a time in my youth. Good times indeed…" They raise their glasses towards each other and drink to their appraisal.

As the night came to a close, everyone was feeling the effects and the warm buzz sent the team on their way. Reid played designated driver and took care to make sure everyone got home safely.

Hotch caught up with Emily. She was standing outside the doors, about to head to her car.

He nudges her arm with his, stopping right next to her.

She looks at him serious and doe eyed. "God I would kill for some coffee."

He lets a grin slip. "Starting on the hangover remedy already, huh? "

He smiles completely when she nods, still serious.

Looking out into the parking lot, seeing Garcia and Morgan jump into the car with Reid, Hotch knows just what to do. And he takes the dive.

"If you'd like, I've got a coffee maker that would put any hotel coffee to shame. You in?"

She watches him for a moment, wondering if he really wanted to spend more time with her. Latching onto the bait she slowly smiles. "You bet. But what about Jack? I don't want to wake him."

"He is with Jessica for the weekend. But I'm sure he would love to see you again if he was around."

"It's been a while. I'd love to see him too. Well then, lead the way Agent Hotchner."

Hotch steers her in the direction of his car. She is confused at first but knows she shouldn't drive. Hotch would have had consumed more but his focus was voluntarily altered and his last drink sat forgotten and warm, incased in his hands.

The car ride was full of laughter as he talks her into describing more about this nightclub.

Reaching his apartment, he ushers her inside, telling her to make herself comfortable as he got the coffee started.

Emily sits down on his couch, feeling quite calm considering the warmth nestling deep within. She jokes out loud to break the silence, "Geez Hotch, you make my place look like a storm went through it, leaving no survivors save for my cat."

He appears after a moment, eyes and brows set. "Well, I'm not home much and Jack knows to pick up after himself." He sits on the other cushion. "Maybe I should send him over to clean yours."

She scoffs at that and chides him about child labor.

Hotch silently praises them both for how far they've come, for how easy this all was. She was working things out with herself and he was there for her. More and more reasons came to mind as he watched her. She had held on just like he'd asked and her fears were conquered. Sure, there were good and bad days, but she was handling both in an admirable way.

She leans back into his big couch, heart beating strong beneath her ribs. The trust they have leaves him reaching forward without thinking, helping her lay back at more of an angle. Her knees press into his thigh. She wants to tell him she's fine and that she didn't really have too much to drink. This attention of his was still new to her and she didn't quite know how to proceed. One foot comes up off the floor to save an awkward position. He gets up to give her more room along the couch and she finds him crouch on his knees in front of her.

She rests her head on the overstuffed arm of the soft couch, back colliding with the seat and lightly smiles.

He sees it, the little smile. "What?"

She shakes her head, taking a deep breath and licking the corner of her mouth. "Nothing…"

He gives her a look. Her tell was showing. Before she even knew what was going on he lifts her other leg and now she is completely laid out on his couch. A ripple of pleasure runs straight down her spine, tingling every nerve ending. A flash back to the night in his hotel room, her body tingling much in the same way after he'd hugged her. The newness of the situation left her mind hazy.

She can only breathe and focus on his eyes.

His hand slowly moves away from her calf.

Always one to say something to either help stop any awkwardness or bring it forward, Emily opens her mouth. "So, what now? Are you going to tuck me in and read me a story?" She's smiling and he knows she is only sweetly joking.

He speaks quietly, his voice resonating deep within, but shaking her to the core.

"How is your stomach? Would you let me see again? Please?"

His strong hands rest by her side, waiting for permission.

She can't think why he would want to. Her nerves creep in a little, feeling in the spotlight. Vulnerability was not her best friend. But she wanted and promised him that she would be more open. Her cheeks flush. The alcohol had worn off now and the heat was coming from something else.

From him.

Licking her bottom lip quickly, not missing his eyes follow the movement, Emily whispers, "Hotch…"

She is incapable of saying anything else.

Always deliberate, always sure, Hotch lays his warm hand on top of her small, becoming shirt. He rests there for a brief moment, feeling the rise and fall of each deep breath. There is still no objection. He then hooks his fingers into the white shirt, lifting the material up. Second by agonizing second the pale, smooth skin was revealed to him. Leaving the bottom of the shirt right below her breasts, his hand hovers above. This was a process and he was going to take his time. Otherwise he would have lifted the shirt clean off of her small frame. There still was the burn mark on her left breast to consider, but that would come in time.

Her muscles twitch under the scrutiny. His eyes are trained on her and never has she felt so exposed but completely safe. Do those feelings even go together?

The skin he had touched over a week ago begs for him to caress again.

He obliges.

Fingers ghost over the scar before his entire hand spans out, pressing gently into her skin. That beautiful, enticing warmth spreads, thickening inside both bodies.

No fear shines in her dark eyes. No pity or ugly thoughts about her scar form in her mind. Her skin wasn't ice or sizzling, but the burn inside her was a healthy, desirable sensation. She only watches him and the way his face changes, completely amazed at his tender touch, at his eagerness to help. Hands that have done so much hardship can still dance upon skin as gentle as a whisper.

The caring nature he possesses almost brings tears to her eyes.

His fingers smooth over every inch of skin at her taut stomach, every trace etching itself into his memory.

The smell of brewed coffee joins them in his living room but Hotch couldn't make himself get up even if he sought to and Emily had already forgotten about needing a cup.

He continues, running over the slight indentations of her ribs; his thumb accidently grazing the bottom of her breast. He sees little chills appear over the exposed skin and this time he does smile. Her body was reacting to his touch and Hotch wanted to explore more. She notices and decides to one up him, feeling brave and definite.

She lifts a hand, reaching down under his arm and grasps onto the side of his polo. If he wanted to see and feel then so did she.

Copying his actions, Emily slowly pulls up the cotton material, keeping her eyes trained on his. He looks at her and sees what she wants to do. He knows no threat; can't see a reason not to experience and help each other. His skin was itching to be touched. By her. They've gotten so close and on every level, their trust would never waver. Making sure the other is okay is what's important. They'll know when to stop when they get there. Right now, this was necessary.

Taking the initiative, Emily releases his shirt and scooting up the couch to more of a sitting position, pulls at his arms to get up. His knees feel weak but Hotch moves and sits next to her slightly reclining body, his at a minor angle. She then lifts gently at his shirt again and he helps the rest of the way; the shirt over his head and on the floor beside them in seconds.

His full torso is now visible and Emily gathers in the lean yet muscular frame. His hands wait at his thighs, letting her make the next move. Her fingers shake only just on their short journey to his stomach. The fading scars disappear behind her hands as she places both upon his warm skin. She can feel the muscles move at the new sensation and she knows he's watching her, breathing deeply.

Soothing over the lines, Emily felt her chest quake with strong emotions. Pressing the soft skin with caring fingers, she marveled at his strength and conviction. What he is made of and what keeps him going.

_You're not alone._

Those words play in her head and she bites her lip.

"Emily…"

His voice is so near, so affectionate.

She looks up into his eyes and realizes that the few tears that wanted to well before were silently making tracks down her flushed cheeks.

She smiles.

"Aaron."

He reaches out and returns his hands to her sides.

Never has she called him his given name.

"Happy tears…I promise." She lets out a little shy laugh.

His dimples show and she can't think of enough words to describe her feelings.

With ease, she skims her hands around his sides, pulling him closer until he is almost on top of her.

He catches himself, both hands on either side of her, not wanting to crush her. But Emily is persistent and continues until she feels his muscles give in and their bodies meet, skin colliding in a delicious motion. She sighs, wrapping her arms tightly around his back, fingers clinging to his shoulders.

Hotch swallows, gliding his tender hands underneath, lifting her even farther into him. He buries his face in her neck, her hair lying all around.

They breathe as one. Restoring and pacifying their bodies, Aaron and Emily make it past another hurdle and can finally move on, together. Everything falls into place and their stories are no longer a burden. Their skin ripples with pleasure, finding solace in the other.

The coffee was completely forgotten for the time being. It would still be there in the morning…

x.x.x.x…

Hope you enjoyed this add on! Was going to do one more chapter with a M rating but I've heard somewhat about what's going on here on ff so I might hold off. I'm not sure. ;)

Anyways, thank you so much for all of your support and the amazing, wonderful reviews I've received! I appreciate your thoughts!

Lilylynn


	4. Chapter 4

So, this many chapters was not planned when I started this story. But these characters took me there, took me here and I've arrived in an **M** rated chapter. My first, I must say. I had moments of pause, wondering if I should put this or that, but I'm happy with it. The song Glass by Thompson Square was a big inspiration for a lot of this. Beautiful song and the lyrics work perfect with Hotch and Prentiss. I would love to hear what you think! Please drop me a review! And please, Enjoy!

_We might be oil and water; this could be a big mistake. We might burn like gasoline and fire but it's a chance we'll have to take…_

* * *

><p>x.x.x…<p>

Lying together peacefully on his couch, Hotch and Prentiss sink into one another. Each breath taken was like a new line bleeding into paper, seeping deep within. Each brush of skin, their skin, was relaxing and appealing. They were healing…together.

Nothing awkward passed through them. This was far beyond that stage.

Everything was thrilling.

Emily felt the course of his back; the planes addicting to every nerve ending in her body. It amazed her at the comfort and emotion that comes from this physical touch.

Not many words were said. Words were barely all they had before. Now what was important was further than words. This intimacy dug most profoundly. And it was going to save them.

No judgment was made. No judgment could ever be made between them. Both had their pasts. They understood and accepted their lives, their stories. Now their stories come together, blending in the most beautiful way possible.

Hotch's mouth was close to her neck. Laying feather light lips upon the soft skin, he whispers her name. Recently he has noticed he can't get enough of saying her given name and she can't get enough of hearing it leave his quiet mouth.

Always professional and strict with last names, Hotch let down that barrier. She had been different from the others and he thought keeping his distance would be the key. But that just proved to him and her that the connection between them wasn't imaginary. He deliberated about her and she mused over him. They both saw the signs and thought about the paths. Each one carried them back to the other.

She hums in reply; wanting to keep her eyes closed, she couldn't risk waking up from this reality.

Hotch sits up slowly, hands now pushing against the sofa so he can see her face. His slight distance has her chancing her eyes to open.

Seeing her exposed and unabashed, laying underneath him and breathing with him, triggers Hotch to run a hand down her chest, between her breasts. Settling on the bunched up shirt they both know what he is silently asking.

Emily quivers inside, a small nod is all she is capable of doing. That comforting, exhilarating heat circles as she arches her back.

Sitting up even more, hip against hers, Hotch swallows, keeping calm. He is gentle as he raises her shirt, inch by inch, over her breasts. She leans up even more, lifting her arms as the formed material escapes her body. Over her head and on the floor in slow seconds, the shirt lays with his.

She shakes the hair out of her eyes. The black strands fall loosely around her head.

For Emily, her scar from the brand was forgotten…till now. She tries to suppress the small bit of shame. This scar had never been seen, by anyone. The mark was always in her vision when showering and dressing. She couldn't hide from the hurt, so she just blocked it and ignored the ugly scar. Now that someone else has seen it, Emily didn't know how to react.

She can't quite read the look in his eyes. He's staring at her, at all of her. The butterflies keep her quivering despite the sudden worry about her appearance. She's taken back to the day under that old tree. The wind lightly whispering to her flushed face. His eyes and hands on her, comforting her. His words giving her reason to stay. The sanctuary of the confined space between the back of the vehicle and his body had been welcoming. The feeling of Hotch and her being the only two humans in that moment was beautiful. Wanting to smile, to laugh, and cry tears of joy all hit her at once

Hotch feels the overwhelming urge to love this woman. To give everything he has to her. He doesn't focus on the brand. He doesn't need to. His focus is her whole. Agent Emily Prentiss is remarkable. She let him in. No one else had been this close to her. She opened the door to her soul and he marveled at their possibilities.

They had both been in the dark; engulfed in guilt and fear, they were punishing themselves when they could have thrown away the baggage and started new. But now their paths led them here and making up for lost time was on their minds.

Their pain and scars were no longer driving them, only their hearts.

Would things work out if they went any farther? Neither could say. With Emily's nonexistent relationships and Hotch's failed marriage, both had been a little wary. These thoughts and actions have stuck by them for a couple years even though they knew time wasn't on their side. But putting that faith and trust into each other, they decide to take the chance. The line had already been crossed. And they couldn't let their pasts control their future. Not anymore.

Careful not to shock her, Hotch tentatively glides his fingers down her left breast. They don't catch at the shallow, discolored burn but continue over her white silk bra and down to her stomach. This told her that it didn't matter. That just like the words he spoke to her before, the mark meant nothing and wouldn't dictate anything.

Emily's breath is deep and uneven. She slowly licks the corner of her mouth, coming to terms with what was going on.

Seeing the flicker of desire in his eyes sends her mind spinning. The look never ceasing, Emily can't contain herself.

She digs her fingers into his shoulders, pulling him down again to cover her. More wonderful sensations flutter when the supplementary skin at her chest collides into his. Her breasts strain against her bra.

Faces inches away, a decision is made.

No more running. No more hiding.

They were going to do this together. Trust complete and elevating, Hotch and Prentiss delved into one another.

Lips meeting for the first time, smooth and wet, create ripples of delicious heat searing through both bodies.

Skin against skin, Hotch's arms wrap again around her middle, hands pressing amorously at every inch of her he can.

She arches even more into him, the beat of her heart reminding him that she was here, alive.

Emily wants to feel confident but a slight, annoying nag hit her in the back of her sporadic mind. This was her boss. This could blow up in their faces, couldn't it? They were laying there half naked and this was her boss.

His tongue slips past her lips and that thought quickly diminished.

She cared about Hotch and apparently he cared about her. She knew, what with him being the strong professional, destroying that wall of his was intentional on his part. He was in this. He wanted this.

They could handle whatever came after.

That thought alone drove her to put her own desire into the kiss, her tongue coming into play as well.

Emily just wanted to heal. And Aaron Hotchner was what she needed.

Hotch let a low rumble deep in his throat out into the air between them, his fingers finding the clasp of her bra.

Separating the two clips, he leans out, slowly pulling the garment away. Chills erupt everywhere along her naked skin. Revealing her full breasts, Hotch doesn't look down. He simply continues to kiss her, laying his bare chest into hers.

There was something so intense, so real about being this close to him. Their scars were forgotten. They weren't important and both had other things on their minds.

His skin rubs smooth along hers as he settles carefully on top of her.

Her nipples harden even more than they already were with responsiveness.

She had been attracted to this man, if she was completely honest with herself, since the day she joined the BAU. The attraction never wavered but she was smart to keep it locked away in a box in the back of her mind. Now that there wasn't really anything in the way or holding them back, why hide?

His lips leave hers, trailing slowly down her jaw, feather light kisses placed here and there. She swallows, catching her breath and he follows the curve of her neck down to the little hollow between her slender collar bones.

His breath is hot as each puff drifts over her skin.

Continuing his path, Hotch kisses her sternum, and then moves over the burn, placing a warm, sweet kiss over the small puckered mark.

A tear threatens to fall as she comprehends his actions. He is incredibly tender and she can't help but feel overwhelmed. He is intimate beyond measure.

Hotch lifts his head, leaning back enough to see her, dark eyes meeting hers. He isn't hiding anything but he looks to be studying her. So she takes in his strong jaw, the bit of five o'clock shadow, and his slightly swollen lips; making little notes in her head of every feature and every emotion. She was a profiler after all, this was what they did.

Emily brings a hand over his shoulder, skimming her fingers along, and stopping over his heart. Never would she have believed she would be touching him as much as she is. The steady thump, insistent and sure, told her this was real. This was happening.

Hotch takes in her flushed cheeks and her dark, round eyes. Nothing told him to stop.

Suddenly he speaks, low but determined.

"Emily, what we have is loaded. It could be dangerous, it could be right." A dimple appears.

He didn't have to ask; the answer was already written in her eyes.

But she assists him with one word and a breath taking smile.

"Yes."

His brow line no longer furrowed. The seriousness in his eyes now a loving glance. He smiles and their lips meet again, passion flowing free.

Taking all the time in the world, Hotch maps out her torso; from the bottom of her waist to the arch of her shoulders, he worships every curve. Feeling brave and very keen, he lays a line of hot, open mouthed kisses over her breasts. Her breathing becomes lightly narrowed and she can't help herself as a leg drapes around him, pressing his lower half into her. Sure, this had been on both of their minds, but feeling him harden against her lower stomach brought the need completely to the forefront.

Hotch kept steady. He was always collected and calm with his choices. And this was something he wanted to take slow. He wanted to remember every little part of her. He wasn't expecting to go this far with her tonight but now that it was happening and they were letting it, Hotch gratefully accepted this turn of events.

As his tongue comes out to sweep over her right nipple and she unconsciously lets out a low moan, he realizes going slow may be harder than he thought.

His name leaves her lips in an incredibly sexy whisper. His palm traces over the scar at her stomach, warm and beautiful still, no matter what was anchored to her body.

His hands sneak further between them, finding the button to her dress pants. He toys with the metal for a moment, making his way back up to her lips. She leans up, meeting him half way, teeth grazing his bottom lip.

Hotch separates the button from the woven hole, another barrier opened. She lifts her hips off the couch, ready and willing, asking for his continued assistance.

He again obliges.

His control is still ever present as he slowly sits up, pulling her pants off each long, defined leg. Her heels had taken to the floor before any of this began.

As the black pants reach their destination on top of the shirts, Emily feels completely exposed. And yet she welcomes his heated gaze. The lace panties feel invisible already, like they were on the floor, forgotten too. But Hotch doesn't move that fast. He is experiencing and exploring, venturing where Emily would never dream he would even be looking.

His hands move with calculated ease. Running over her thighs, he relishes in the feel of her toned muscles and the smoothness of her flesh.

The blood inside of her was quickly coursing hot; a beautiful, sexy heat that she couldn't deny.

Her hands had skimmed down his arms with his distance, landing on his as he places them on her hips. She squeezes and then lifts her hands away, waiting for him. Hotch splayed the fingers of his right hand out, slowly moving up her body, so agonizingly slow. Reaching her left breast, he continues till his entire hand is over the sensitive, full mound. Emily wants to writhe, wants to moan her encouragement. His touch was driving her crazy.

The embrace isn't painful but loving and caressing upon her breast. This was the most intense slow burn they have ever experienced. An appealing heat, compared to what Emily had dealt with just a few weeks ago.

The other strong hand comes up, giving her right the same attention. This time Emily does moan, reverberating within. That heat was coiling, circling tight among every inch of her very turned on body.

With the look of her beneath him and the sounds coming from her throat, enjoying his touch and beautifully flushed, Hotch kisses her hard. He keeps that image of her in his mind for memory as his tongue delves across her lips and into her waiting mouth.

Emily moves her legs, feet pushing quietly at his calves, the material of his jeans in the way of what she wanted to feel. Her nimble fingers skim down his sides, secretly smiling at the jumping muscles when passing a certain spot. His faded scars just blend in to her. She strokes a few, but her attention is elsewhere.

Reaching the line of his jeans, Hotch raises his hips a little, allowing her better access. He could feel his heart pounding, his desire pulsing. He was aware of every bit of him and every bit of her.

Nothing went unnoticed. Nothing was secret. Having laid everything out on the line was something to be proud of between them. She had always had a hard time trusting and he never let anyone get close. So this barrier broken was like a saving grace, opening their eyes to each other.

As the button and zipper are loosened, his bulge tightens. He helps her as she helps him out of his pants; no fumbling or awkward movements, just easing out of them gradually and kicking them lightly to the floor. Her legs immediately wrap around him as her lips break away from his, venturing across his cheek and down to his neck. The light scruff tingles at her lips and Emily smiles into his skin.

His breath is heavy above her, rustling her hair. She was sending him spiraling. And he didn't wish for her to stop. Never to stop.

Hotch brushes his hips against hers, hands wandering, wanting to hear her and feel that heat.

Their skin against each other's, familiarizing and comforting in every way possible.

Hotch is aching now, that burn catching a spark, setting a trail of fire soaring fast. Still, he keeps his measured pace.

His fingers dance meticulously across her stomach and down her thighs in an amazing fluid motion, up and down. Unhurried, as he crosses over the dip her hip bone makes and his fingers meet the last piece of clothing she is wearing, Hotch licks his lips and takes a low, albeit strong breath. Continuing down the path of smooth underwear, he hears her intake of breath, husky and addicting to his ears.

He feels her move, muscles twitch just so. She extends her back and raises an inch off the couch. Her hands are reaching, searching for him and inspiring him. Eyes wide open; she grabs onto the waistband of his briefs and pulls at them slightly. Together they help each other out of their underwear. And finally they are starch naked, skin on skin. Completely open and unabashed to both bodies, they encompass one another. His skin caressing hers, sending currents of pleasure everywhere was enough to do her in.

His erection pushes at her thigh and Hotch can't contain a low groan. She was insatiable. And this slow fire burn was now engulfing them.

Emily can feel the soft, smooth skin of his penis and she drags her fingers around his neck and through his hair, completely falling. This leisurely pace was frustrating and yet she had no power to change his ministrations. This was about knowing each other through and through; they may or may not have all the time in the world, but they were sure going to experience one another to a full extent.

He kisses her sweetly, feeling her tremble underneath him. Inching closer, he can feel her core, hot and wet. With slow ease and determination, added with the hitch in her breathing, Hotch moves forward, entering her. They breathe together as he gently fills her. Thousands of sensations blur Emily's vision as his deliberate moves caress the walls inside of her. His body was fire, hers was wax. She was melting within him. He was coming alive within her.

Slow lovemaking was beautiful in itself. When you can control the speed and keep things going for quite a time was a feat worth it in the end. Impossible for some but for Aaron and Emily, it turned out to be perfect. He completed every thrust into her with the soft roll of his hips. Hers meeting his, they found a rhythm all their own. His skin collides into hers, over and over again. And they never wanted to stop.

Her mouth is slightly open, lips swollen and red. Her eyes strive to stay open, not wanting to take her line of vision away from him for too long. His meet hers and Emily can feel his heart beating in her ears, beating with the same loud thump as her own. The brooding look always in his eyes was taken over by a deep desire he held; he was staring at her with strong emotion. She realizes those looks were the same as the ones he gave her underneath that old tree and in the dim hotel room. This may have been a long time coming then.

Emily wasn't kidding herself; this was like a fantasy come true.

The look in his eyes tells her he'd been holding out. This had entered his mind on more than one occasion too.

A small grunt escapes his mouth and Emily runs her hands down his chest and over his shoulders, encouraging and greeting him with a panting gasp.

Hotch runs his hands underneath her, cupping her ass as they meet in the middle. He kisses her neck, biting tenderly at the sensitive flesh. In return she rubs over his nibbles, feeling them hard much like hers were and latches onto his earlobe, moaning low in her throat.

Every thrust was methodical, loving, and leisured. The pressure was building. The heat was rising and falling with the wave of their bodies. Stars dance in her eyes as Hotch hits the right spot, again and again. She was close. He was going to take her there with him. One hand leaves her butt to sneak around between them and swivels down to stroke her sweet spot.

With one small stroke, Emily is moaning louder, a shudder flying through her like a lightning bolt. She was definitely close.

Hotch kisses her moaning mouth, never getting enough of her lips. He angles his hips a little more and now the slow strides were revved up a notch. He still kept his movements thorough. He wanted to sense every inch of her. Fast could come later.

Before, he didn't want to say too much; he was always afraid of ruining something with words. No one could quite say Aaron Hotchner was a romantic mainly because no one had ever seen him around other women as of late. But nothing could stop him from leaning back to look into her eyes and whisper hoarsely, "You are beautiful."

Clichéd or not, Emily smiled, blindingly amidst the heat and pulled him back to her, kissing him lovingly and clinging to his back. As another stride shook her core, Hotch knew he was there too. He strokes her clitoris once, twice, three times and her whole body lets go. A blissful cry floats lightly into the air as she rides out the release that completely undoes her body. Hotch follows with a deep moan, burying his face into the curve of her neck as he slides into her one more time, his release captivating.

Breathing heavily as one, bodies' slick with sweat, they lay there on his couch relishing each other.

His touch was unfathomable. From the day she greeted him in his office all those years ago, surprising him with her presence, his touch was profound…even if it was just a handshake. Now his hands', holding onto her in such a moving way, is still fascinating and will always be.

Hotch maneuvers them so he isn't crushing her. He swallows thickly, feeling an utmost happiness settle within him.

Her skin was healed and striking. Call this comfort sex, call this a whole new beginning, Emily and Hotch could only revel in the fact that they were here together, restored. They had fought their way out of the dark, the demons gone and no longer hoarding.

Curving her head to the side, Emily kisses his cheek, smiling at the dimple she finds there. She could definitely get used to that. She licks her lips and sighs.

"How 'bout that coffee now, Hotchner?"

* * *

><p><em>Fin<em>

x.x.x.x….x.

I would like to thank everyone again for their continued support. For every writer and every dreamer…thank you for continuing that path. Please don't ever stop. Keep believing and keep writing.

lilylynn


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